


a king turned bitter

by sylvainplath



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: (mostly), Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Coming Untouched, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Making Out, Mental Health Issues, Porn with Feelings, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, but the comfort is sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-22 15:15:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22151419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sylvainplath/pseuds/sylvainplath
Summary: Following a meeting with the Flame Emperor, Dimitri loses control. Sylvain wants him to feel better.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 9
Kudos: 166





	a king turned bitter

**Author's Note:**

> General warnings for all that comes with Dimitri's mental illness, and also two young men not coping properly/using sex to cope. Also, if it's an issue for you, they don't use any sort of protection, so warning for unsafe sex practices.
> 
> Title is from a Sylvia Plath poem.

Tonight, Sylvain tries to sleep alone, at a reasonable hour. He’s been on his best behaviour at Prince Dimitri’s request, so he has no pretty girl or boy in his bed now. Prince Dimitri would surely hear him, if he tried to bring someone to bed. Sylvain hates to sit through his lectures as much as he hates to disappoint him.

Or perhaps, Dimitri _would_ hear him, if he could take a moment to cease his screaming that bleeds from his own chambers into Sylvain’s and keeps him awake. On edge. 

Sharing a wall with Dimitri has been illuminating from the very start. Through his months at Garreg Mach, Sylvain has heard Dimitri sob himself to sleep at least once a week, but usually more often. Often, too, Dimitri does not fall asleep. He sobs until a few hours before he must rise for training. Sylvain does not know what Dimitri does once he quiets himself on these nights, after his hiccups secede and he has finished tearing his bedding to shreds. Sylvain knows this because he has run into His Highness and Dedue trying to dispose of Dimitri’s torn belongings. Sylvain has learned to fall asleep despite his howls, and pretend he isn’t aware of His Highness’s pain.

And also from the very start, Sylvain’s heart has ached for his friend nightly. Dimitri is, now and always, the sweetest person Sylvain has known. His heart is as genuine as they ever have come. Sylvain scarcely believes that anyone can be so empathetic. As a child, Dimitri was prone to bouts of melancholia. It was easy to hurt him, to make him sad. It was easy, too, to delight him. Dimitri was prey to the harshest of emotions, and as his older friend, Sylvain used to feel it was his duty to protect Dimitri’s heart. He feels it still, but he’s grown apart from Dimitri since Duscur. He is used to watching over him from a distance now, pushing others who are softer in Dimitri’s direction in his stead. Sylvain is much too cruel to handle him tenderly.

As he thinks of how they’ve grown apart, and how Dimitri ended up this way, he always curses the tragedy. When Dimitri returned from Duscur, Sylvain had already heard the news. Ingrid hadn’t been with him when she was told, had locked herself away and refused all comfort. He hadn’t seen her since they’d both thought Glenn and King Lambert were alive. At first, it was thought that Dimitri had died with his parents. Felix had been completely devastated and Sylvain, helpless. But -- Dimitri returned. His open little heart seemed to close. Sylvain was hiding near the water pipes in the Fraldarius Estate, watching his father and Lord Rodrigue receive Duscur’s only survivor, when the first cracks became apparent. There was no expression on Dimitri’s face, when Rodrigue took him into his arms, and Dimitri buried himself into Rodrigue’s chest like he wanted to crawl inside his heart forever, protected.

Parts of Dimitri disappeared in the years following. Sylvain didn’t see him. Two years before the academy, and shortly after His Highness’s falling out with Felix, Dimitri seemed to be on the mend. He began cutting his hair. He was friendly, and he was charming. But he was different and distant, so Sylvain followed suit. It wasn’t his place anymore. If Dimitri was alright now, then Sylvain would be too, now. 

And so Sylvain has watched Dimitri fall apart. For a time, he witnessed Dimitri’s every joy and sorrow. He feels Dimitri’s distance, and his own. They are cordial with each other, and take comfort in being together, but they are barely friends, now. Sylvain thinks that it’s only their fond history that keeps them speaking at all. He is quite aware that he burdens Dimitri. But even so, Sylvain loves him as much as he loves Felix and Ingrid. He is just not sure what to do with him, any longer.

But the night is dark and lonely and Dimitri is falling apart tonight. A culmination of everything he’s been hiding. Felix was right. Sure, Sylvain saw it. But he had hoped - he had hoped that Dimitri really was getting better, even if the friends he grew up with were no longer who he needed. Remire Village and Captain Jeralt have torn something open in his dear prince, and he is aching to soothe the wound. He wishes to use his own faithlessness and kiss it closed like healing magic, to lick the suture until it has faded away and left only sweet, gentle Dimitri resting in his arms, where he can watch over him. Something in him has always been tender for his childhood friends. If he could, he would give up every piece of himself for their happiness, without a moment of thought.

It is this incredible desire to comfort his prince that brings him to Dimitri’s door after the first hour. Sylvain has slept through many nights of Dimitri’s cries, but tonight, he can’t. Now that he has been given a glimpse at the aches that fester in his friend’s heart every moment he is breathing, Sylvain _cannot_.

So he exits his room, making sure to shut the door loudly enough that Dimitri might hear it, but softly enough that he will not bother anyone too much. He doesn’t know what he will do once he has Dimitri’s attention, but - he will find something. Improvisation is one of the few things he is good for. 

He raps at Dimitri’s door, firmly, but not sharply. He doesn’t want to scare him, but he wants to show him that he’s come with a goal. Waiting a moment, he steps backward onto his heels to wait. Dimitri is heaving on the other side of the door, likely near his window. 

After a moment, he growls fiercely. Sylvain hears a crash from inside, and then a sob. 

“No, no, no, I can’t I can’t I can’t, I’m _sorry_ ,” he wails as things clash inside his room.

Oh, Dimitri. Is he apologizing to him? He needn’t. He doesn’t seem like he is, but Sylvain doesn’t know who else he could be crying to. Sylvain can’t bear it any longer. He’s tried to use all precautions, even if Dimitri might not notice them. It seems that he hasn’t, so Sylvain knocks loudly, this time. 

“Your Highness, it’s me. Sylvain. Can I see you for a sec?” 

A pause. Things move around inside Dimitri’s room, before he approaches his door, faint sniffling coming from his side of it, to grunt through the door cracks. “A - a moment, please. Apologies.”

“No worries! I can wait.”

So he waits. A good ten minutes later, Dimitri’s door opens, and the Crown Prince of Faerghus takes a step into the hallway with a swollen, red face, in nothing but his unbuttoned nightshirt and trousers. His eyes still shine, bloodshot, and his neck and shoulders bear swollen red scratch marks.

“I am deeply sorry for making you wait. What did you need?” Dimitri asks him, aiming for politeness, but his shredded throat makes it come out harshly.

Sylvain didn’t think this far ahead. He doesn’t know what to say. All he’s really good for is his brain, and hiding that he has one. But perhaps Dimitri won’t notice his awkwardness, his lack of preparation. He knows only that he must distract Dimitri from his sadness, from his rage.

He says, “Can I come inside? It’s important.”

“I, I’m not sure. That that would be. A good idea,” Dimitri looks down toward the floor, where the wood of his room meets the wood of the hall. He shuffles about at the entrance. “Can’t we talk about it from here, if it is urgent? Or take a walk somewhere. If it is not, perhaps we could meet in the morning? Before breakfast?”

Sylvain can’t have this, though, because he knows he has to be direct now or he’ll have wasted his chance. Failed at his goal, and he refuses. 

“Dimitri. I heard you crying. Please let me in, so we can talk. I wanna help you feel better,” his tone is unrelenting, he is gazing straight into Dimitri’s eyes. His Highness startles at his name.

“Sylvain. I’m...I am... very sorry. But I do not think... I can manage talking tonight,” he speaks his words in a jumble, jarred and feeling like bricks.

And here is where Sylvain makes his irreversible decision.

He steps forward, into Dimitri’s space. Pressing his hands on the place where his shoulders and neck meet, Sylvain leans forward and down, and says lowly, smoothly, “We don’t have to talk, then. But let me come in.”

Dimitri stiffens. He gulps. He is shivering and covered in gooseflesh all over his chest. The hairs on his neck stand stiff. “Sylvain --” 

But Sylvain isn’t listening, because he takes one arm from Dimitri’s neck and drags it down his side slowly, to rest at his waist. A little too intimate, but. 

But.

He shuts Dimitri’s door behind them, slowly leads them both through the darkness of Dimitri’s quarters and into the moonlight near his window. He lifts his other hand up to hold Dimitri’s cheek, and looks directly into his eyes.

“I know you’re hurting. And I’m sorry, but I don’t care what reasons you’ve got for why I shouldn’t be with you when you need someone, because I’m gonna be here anyway. All night if I have to. We’ll do whatever you want,” Sylvain speaks gently, with all the musical charm he uses for shy girls he wants to use. Except - this time, different. He’s never wanted to use the Prince he was raised to love. He presses his forehead into Dimitri’s bangs; slowly, slowly. “We’ll talk. Or we’ll go to bed, and I’ll spoon the shit out of you because you need it. Or anything else. You know I will. Because I want to.”

* * *

Truly, in retrospect, Sylvain knew he wouldn’t end up talking it out with Dimitri. Sylvain is awful at that, because he’s emotionally unavailable and happy about it, and Dimitri is a hot mess who’s terrible at talking past casual pleasantries on a good day. Maybe he knew, beneath it all, that he would end up in Dimitri’s bed before the night was finished.

Almost before he knows it, Dimitri has him propped up on his pillows, Sylvain sucking marks onto his throat and jutting himself upward against Dimitri’s dick. Dimitri is torn through with an awkward mess of trying to control himself, crying over whatever has been ailing him, and attempting to grind himself down onto Sylvain’s crotch. He’s been shaking violently since Sylvain entered his room. It’s rather miserable, so Sylvain stops him.

“Hey, hey. We don’t have to do this. We’ll do whatever you want.”

“This _is_ what I want. If I didn’t, I would send you away.”

“...Dimitri, if there’s any question about you wanting this, I’m just going to go to bed.”

 _“No!_ No, don’t. Please.” 

Sylvain stares at him awhile. The moonlight is just enough that Sylvain can see the tears shine in his eyes. He guides Dimitri off himself so he can sit up. “Tell me why. Tell me what you want. If you don’t, then...we’ll just lie down.”

“I...don’t know. What I want. But perhaps...I would just like a distraction. If I cannot overcome my feelings, I will be useless. So a distraction may be. Good for me,” Dimitri says, voice breaking. 

“Alright. Okay. How about this: I’m just gonna kiss you for awhile. And you can lead, show me what you want. I like it all, really, so don’t worry.”

Dimitri bites his lip, pulling further away. Sylvain’s chest dips because he knows Dimitri is starting to pull away again. “Sylvain. I don’t want to use you.”

Oh. Sylvain swallows thickly. He’d known this would come up. “So, uh, the thing is, your Highness. Is that I like being used. A lot. I’ll be disappointed if you don’t.” 

He’s always been too honest with Dimitri.

Dimitri looks incredibly disturbed. “I don’t think I like that.”

Sylvain isn’t sure what to say to that, because neither of them will budge on this front. Avoiding it, he gets off the bed to light a candle, so they can really see each other. He won’t have Dimitri zoning out when he’s supposed to be focused on Sylvain.

“Alright, lie back. Relax. Have you done anything like this before?” Sylvain knows he hasn’t, but he needs to be sure.

Dimitri burns brightly in the candlelight. “Um. Not with anyone, but, uhm, to myself, yes. There’s oil in the drawer behind us, if...you want...” Dimitri almost squeaks, trailing off shamefully.

Oh. That’s. Very hot. And a lot more than he had meant to ask for. 

“Oh, shit,” he mumbles, throat dry. Sitting back on the bed, leaning down to kiss Dimitri, he feels desperate and moves his mouth against him harshly, with little of his usual finesse. As soon as Dimitri opens his mouth, Sylvain slides his tongue all through his mouth messily. He’s getting spit on his chin, and he can’t help groaning. He pulls back. Settles himself on top of Dimitri, pushes him down into his pillows. He bucks down onto Dimitri’s sleep pants, and it makes Dimitri cry out. He kisses him open mouthed again, scrambling to pull off his nightshirt and get his hands on Dimitri’s chest.

Licking into his mouth, he runs his fingers along Dimitri’s nipples to rub and squeeze them into pert nubs. 

Pulling away from his mouth, the both of them drooling, he rasps, “‘Wanna suck you off,” and licks a line across Dimitri’s neck. Dimitri _whines_. Oh, oh. That makes Sylvain throb in his pants. 

“Do you like that idea, Your Highness?” Dimitri nods.

“Me too,” he says. Pecks Dimitri’s cheek. “But first, let’s get undressed, okay?” Another nod. Unbuttoning Dimitri’s trousers, he presses slick kisses all over Dimitri’s chest while he works. He tugs them downward, and beneath him, Dimitri kicks them off completely. Next, his smallclothes. Dimitri has been making these adorable little squeaky sounds all through this; as soon as his pants are off, he rushes, eagerly like a puppy, to remove Sylvain’s trousers. He tears them in the process, but it’s small, and he doesn’t notice right away. Sylvain pulls apart from him to toss his pants away before Dimitri can notice and start blubbering apologies.

“Better, mm?” 

Dimitri doesn’t answer, but he kisses him again, with his hands in Sylvain’s hair this time, tugging gently. Sylvain pulls back, both of them panting. Dimitri is unsurprisingly intense. 

“Gimme a minute, okay? I want to do something...can I?” 

And Dimitri says yes, so Sylvain slides downward to nip and kiss and suck and bite Dimitri’s right nipple. He uses his left hand on the other side to pinch and tweak his pretty pink nipple, rubbing the pads of his fingers into the smooth, hard nubs, while his other hand holds their cocks together in a firm, squeezing grip. Dimitri cries out brokenly, repeatedly. Sylvain moves them together until they are both fully hard and Dimitri begins leaking, pleading and bucking.

Dimitri pants and heaves, tears intermittently streaking down his face to collect in a pool in the divot of his throat. _He’s very sensitive_ , Sylvain notes. In a moment of weakness, he bends down to suck Dimitri’s tears from his throat.

“Okay, Your Highness, I’m gonna suck you off now, okay? D’you still want that?”

Instead of answering, Dimitri takes him by the chin to meet his eyes. “Please don’t call me that right now,” he implores, and he looks so bereft that Sylvain wants to obey despite the wrongness of it. He detests the kingdom and its nobility systems, its rank, but a Faerghus noble is imbued with respect for their prince before they’ve even left the womb, and he’ll not forget it anytime soon.

Sylvain smirks and levels his most intense sex stare at Dimitri. “Okay, Dimitri. Can I suck your dick?”

Dimitri groans instead of speaking, runs a hand through his bangs and pants for several moments. “Y-es,” Dimitri says, “please,” and tonight he can’t seem to speak without his voice cracking.

It’s charming in a way that makes Sylvain’s throat stick. The flush of his cheeks in the dim light, with the moon there shining on Dimitri’s red chest in a manner so cliche that Sylvain is slightly irked. He’s so fucking pretty, with his perfect princely hair mussed in all directions, covered in wet from his sweat and his tears and his drooling and their slippery pre-come that trails down to settle in the soft of his thighs and his years of having Sylvain’s love and his --

Sylvain might like to fuck those thighs, but tonight isn’t for him, so he won’t. This won’t happen again, so he’ll never. And this isn’t about Sylvain, so it doesn’t matter what he might like to do. It never matters with anyone. He’s good at pleasing people. 

He adjusts Dimitri’s back against the pillows so his cock is easier to take. Separates himself from Dimitri’s arms so he can slide down to his wet thighs, and when he gets there, he buries his face in them. Kisses all over them softly before he bites the places he kissed. He avoids Dimitri’s dick, which he is thrilled to see is just as huge as he’d hoped, in favor of teasing him until he can’t think. He bites, and sucks, and licks all over Dimitri’s thighs. They taste of pre-come. It’s bitter and salty and delicious. Sylvain loses it for a moment in that taste, in licking it right off his shaking thighs.

“ _Hhah_ ,” Dimitri groans. “Please please --”

Sylvain pulls away from his legs to suck the crevice between Dimitri’s legs and cock. He grips Dimitri’s cock and tugs a few times, presses his thumb down into the tip of it, and Dimitri _yells_.

“Please don’t tease me! I need --” he cries out, and when Sylvain glances up at him, he’s crying and gripping his sheets with white knuckles. Sylvain is surprised they haven’t torn yet. He makes sure Dimitri is looking him in the eye when he says --

“You need? What d’you need, _Dimitri_?” he asks, casually and confused.

“Y-your mouth! Guh,” he pleads. Now he can’t help moaning every few seconds.

His wide, wet blue eyes and the tears drying on his face make Sylvain’s dick throb against the bed. He hasn’t touched himself since he jerked them off, but it was brief and gave no relief. Despite that, he’s leaking so much that he’s made large damp spots on Dimitri’s white sheets and his balls are tight, tight, _tight_. He needs this. The affection he holds immensely in his heart for this boy, this awkward, sweet boy, is starting to flow from his heart uncontrollably. 

Maybe this was a bad idea. Sylvain’s never slept with anyone he loves. He’s not prepared for this. Knows only that he must have Dimitri’s cock ruin his throat tonight, have it in its beautiful veiny, pulsing glory spill in his mouth until it falls from his mouth as he gulps and gulps it down, gagging in his need to have it all inside of him. A part of Dimitri that can’t be taken from him, received in the best way Sylvain has to take it.

But, wait --

There’s more he needs. He’s going to be selfish and take, take, take from his prince like he takes from everyone else and burns them. Dimitri has oil, doesn’t he? So he must like fingers. Sylvain wants him to feel that shuddering bliss of fucking Sylvain’s mouth, and being fucked in turn. Sylvain is sure that he’d weep gorgeously. 

He moves down again to jerk Dimitri off, while he cranes his neck below to lick his balls. He licks through the coarse blonde hairs all over, grinding himself into the sheets at the texture. Sucks his balls until he’s yelling out and can’t stop. He calls Sylvain’s name out a few times. He’s close already, Sylvain can feel it. He knows these things.

He pulls away and lets go.

“Hhhey -- Sylvain -- _why_?” Dimitri sobs.

Sylvain hushes him, squeezes his ass softly. “You like fingers, right?”

Dimitri’s face burns twice as brightly. He looks away and tries to hide his face in the pillows beneath him. “Yes,” he muffles through them.

Normally, Sylvain would tease him. But now, Sylvain needs him. His mind is racing imagining what Dimitri might do, what he might have used on himself. Clearly he fingers himself, but what else? A fleshlight, a dildo, a vibrator? Ah, but Prince Dimitri is kind of a prude. He might not even know all the things out there waiting for his enjoyment. He would probably choke if Sylvain asked him.

“Okay. Can you toss me that oil?”

Dimitri looks confused, but he throws it down from the table to where Sylvain can reach for it. He’s urgent to be inside, fumbling with the cap to pour more oil than he probably needs into his hand. He slathers it so his right hand is forming drops off his fingers. Slides his index finger around Dimitri’s entrance, and the cold makes his hole pucker. Dimitri whimpers when Sylvain returns to his cock, finally putting his mouth on the tip as he runs the tip of his finger across Dimitri. 

He kisses the tip of Dimitri’s cock. He’s rewarded by Dimitri’s fluttery intake of breath. He kisses it again, he kisses along the underside of his cock as his finger prods Dimitri’s entrance. He’s probably doing too much dick-kissing for Dimitri’s taste, but Sylvain is an avid fan of cock, so he indulges himself here. He also sort of loves Dimitri and likes his cock extra.

Regretfully, he must stop kissing him if he wants to speak, so he licks along his cock once more before he pulls himself away. 

“Are you ready? I’m gonna start.”

“Mmm,” Dimitri murmurs. His head is tilted back and he’s resting his cheek against the pillows. In the orange glow, he sort of looks angelic. Sylvain thinks he’s adorable.

Chest squeezing, Sylvain slowly slides an oily finger inside. Dimitri says “mmf” a couple of times as he starts to move his finger, and before long Dimitri is panting again. He feels him out, pressing and stretching and eventually curling his finger up, trying to find Dimitri’s prostate. 

“Hhh, another,” Dimitri pants, and when Sylvain looks up, he sees Dimitri has started to play with his own chest. _Fuck_.

“Mmkay.”

He opens his mouth and takes as much of Dimitri’s cock as he can so quickly, which is only about half. His dick is so big and Sylvain is somewhat concerned he could come just from having half of it in his mouth. He cups Dimitri’s balls and squeezes while he sucks, and Dimitri _growls_. He presses two fingers in now, slowly, letting Dimitri adjust to the stretch.

“ _Ooh_ ,” Dimitri moans, tightening around Sylvain’s fingers. “Move _please_.”

He’s so fucking cute. Sylvain doesn’t like to deal with blushing virgins normally, but on Dimitri this look is grossly charming. He starts to scissor Dimitri’s ass again as he swallows more of his cock. _Delicious_. Pre-come is dripping into his mouth, falling down his throat. He hollows out his cheeks and sucks with all his enthusiasm. He’s hungry for it, and it shows, and Dimitri groans and groans. Eventually he hits Dimitri’s sweet spot with his hand and he just about shrieks.

“Fu-uck, fuck, h _oh_ ,” Dimitri moans. “C-c’mon, another, one more, p-please.”

He always fucking says please. He’s so polite. What the fuck. It’s so cute that Sylvain can’t bear it. He grinds into the bed as fast as he can manage. He’s made Dimitri’s bed all wet, down here. He wants more of his dick. So he swallows him whole, as far as he can, Dimitri’s tip at the back of his throat. He sucks, and sucks, and sucks, and grinds. It’s too much. Dimitri is so big, and so beautiful, and his noises are so fucking arousing he _can’t_. Sylvain moans around Dimitri and he can feel Dimitri losing himself.

 _Come on, your Highness. Fuck my mouth,_ he thinks, but he’s too happy where he is to pull off and say so.

He adds a third finger, and fingers him aimlessly for a bit, enjoys his noises and the way he stretches Sylvain’s throat. Soon though, he finds Dimitri’s prostate again and hits it again and again. He gives him no time to breathe in between. Sylvain is literally going to come himself and he might actually end up choking on Dimitri’s come when that happens, because he knows Dimitri won’t be able to tolerate Sylvain’s noises when that happens. Dimitri has to come first, partly because of this, and also because Sylvain will be slightly ashamed if he comes from sucking dick before Dimitri does from getting his actual dick sucked.

“Ahh, fff-uck. Sy-sylv-vain, Seiros, I’m going to,” Dimitri cries out. He means for Sylvain to pull out, surely, but Sylvain’s not going to do that. He blows him with all he’s got, and then Dimitri finally fucks his mouth because he can’t control any of this any longer. He thrusts roughly, in a way that would have made Sylvain gag if he wasn’t so adept at sucking cock. One of his pride points in himself is that he doesn’t have a gag reflex. He can’t help groaning now. He’s really about to come from this.

With effort, Sylvain brings his left hand up to Dimitri’s balls. He cups them, squeezes, caresses them. Finally, his fingers and mouth and hand make Dimitri come. His entire body seizes up, ass clenching tightly around Sylvain’s fingers; he throws back his head, screaming. He spurts his hot seed down Sylvain’s throat and it just pours and _pours._ It’s bitter and delicious and Dimitri’s, the latter of which is a hot-factor that Sylvain doesn’t want to think about anytime soon. 

_I’m such a slut,_ Sylvain thinks, grinding hard. He swallows Dimitri’s come as he gets it, savors it. Some of it drips from his lips because there’s so much of it. He’ll lap it all up later. It’s so hot and sour, he needs it. _Better than food,_ he knows. With this thought in his mind, and his thrusting, he comes so hard his body shudders like he’s been hit by a horse. He spills all over the bed, soaking himself in it. _Oh fuck, that was too good_. 

He pulls back just enough to suckle at Dimitri’s sensitive cock until he’s done spending and his cries have quieted down to whimpers. He pulls completely off, and licks the seed that fell out of his mouth off of Dimitri’s thighs. He kisses all over Dimitri’s hips and crotch, can’t refrain from nuzzling in the crook of them. Sitting up, he appraises Dimitri. Dimitri is watching him with tired eyes. His cock is limp against his leg, and below him is the mess of Sylvain’s come. He’s breathing contentedly. He looks less haunted than he did when Sylvain showed up. Good. 

“How’d I do, Your Highness?” Sylvain smirks up at him, his smile more sincere than he means it to be. He really wants to know how well he did, if it was good for his prince.

Dimitri’s face is hard to read, just then. He looks upset, but he also looks happy. He looks concerned, too, but Sylvain can’t fathom why. And it hurts the way Faerghus ice picks hurt (in Faerghus, ice picks are also made of ice. Gotta use what you have) to realize Sylvain didn’t help him much. Made it worse, maybe. Made him look so worried.

“Sylvain. You, um. Did great. I really enjoyed it,” he says. He still looks unhappy. It hurts so much. “But, ah, what about you?”

“Don’t worry about it! I’m fine. It was treat enough to see you so cute like this,” Sylvain says, forcing a carefree smile. His stomach is sinking.

Dimitri blushes dark red. “You did not come, did you? I did not even touch you. That isn’t fair, Sylvain. I would like to...return the favor, if you are not opposed.”

“No no, Dimitri. The thing is I, uh, did come... You might not wanna look down at your sheets. I’ll clean them, promise.”

“All by yourself?” Dimitri looks so disappointed. “Some other time, then. Please let me return the favor. Unless...you are averse to it. I am deeply sorry to have stepped over any boundaries.”

Oh. _Oh_ . Is that why he’s so upset? Because he feels selfish? Sylvain feels giddy. Seiros, he’s so _fucking_ cute. He’s ridiculous.

“Dimitri. I’m not averse. But don’t feel like you’ve got to -- repay me. You’re one of my best friends and I love you and I wanted to make you feel better. You always do things on your own. I want you to stop that,” Sylvain says quietly, as soothing as he can. He moves up on the bed to sit next to Dimitri and grab his hands.

The _I love you_ spills out. He doesn’t mean to say it, exactly, but he does mean it. Dimitri’s not a bad person to love, and he’d never be cruel to anyone who spoke their love.

Dimitri’s mouth parts into a little O. He looks down, cheeks bright. “I see. I’m sorry then, Sylvain. For pushing my friends away. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”

“I know. It’s okay. Let’s get rid of these sheets now, okay? I’m sleepy,” Sylvain rubs Dimitri’s hands with his thumbs, tugs them to him so he can kiss them.

“...Okay,” Dimitri says, with a little smile.

They both get up. Sylvain pulls off the sheets, bunches them into a ball and tosses the ball near the door for him to wash later. He rummages through the cabinet that the cleaning staff stock with sheets in every room to find new sheets. Dimitri insists on making the bed, so Sylvain lets him, and then they cuddle up with Dimitri snugly fit in Sylvain’s arms. Sylvain blows out the candle by the bed.

“C’mere, Dimitri. Wanna kiss you,” Sylvain says in a lilting voice, like a little song. Dimitri surges upward, cute thing. It’s precious and sad, that he’s so starved for true affection. He surely doesn’t realize it himself, but that’s okay, because Sylvain will give it to him, no questions asked.

They kiss softly, with no tongue. Sylvain just wants him to feel safe, now. When they part, they are both smiling, and Dimitri looks so shyly happy that Sylvain thinks his useless heart might burst. Before they sleep, though, he wants to address Dimitri’s concern about reciprocity. He waits for Dimitri to nestle into his chest again, and when he does, he starts kissing all over Sylvain’s collar bones. It’s...so endearing. It makes Sylvain feel very fluttery.

“Hey, and if you ever want me again,” he swallows roughly and presses his face into Dimitri’s scalp for a moment. “If you still feel like you need to indulge me. Another time, I’d love to ride you. I may have dreamed about it a few times.”

Dimitri squawks. Sylvain can’t see him, but he knows if he could, Dimitri would probably combust in front of him. He doesn’t say anything. Dimitri is silent for a long time. He never used to favor awkward silence as a child. Sylvain starts to feel anxious, growing redder every moment. He’s hard to fluster, he almost never does (except, the professor is pretty good at making him burn up to his ears), but this is different. Dimitri’s his friend, his awkward, shamelessly honest friend. It’s...Sylvain has to be sincere in return. He’s putting himself out there, saying this to Dimitri. At any rate, Sylvain may be glowing in the dark. He itches to fidget, but he knows he can’t. He’d scare Dimitri away. Eventually he can feel Dimitri’s head tilting up in the dark, rubbing against Sylvain’s chin like a kitten before he settles his face at the corner of Sylvain’s mouth. His hand fumbles up to find Sylvain’s ear, and tuck his hair back behind it. He rests it there, on the side of Sylvain’s head.

“I don’t feel that I must indulge you. I wanted only to reciprocate...to give you what you gave me. I want us to be equals, Sylvain. I know that status dictates we can never be,” he huffs in frustration, presses his thumb into Sylvain’s hair, “but here, at least in this capacity, I want it. Can we have that? Please,” on this word, his voice breaks.

“Sure, Dimitri. I’ll do my best. And you don’t need to be so nervous about me dreaming about your dick. Personally, I really enjoyed it. ”

“Oh, Sylvain!” Dimitri groans.

Sylvain laughs and laughs. Squeezes himself tightly to Dimitri’s body, pressing his face all over Dimitri’s hair. Dimitri keeps his face tucked against Sylvain’s throat in his embarrassment. He presses further and further into Sylvain’s neck. Sylvain can feel him trying to regain his wits. 

Finally, Dimitri pulls his face out of Sylvain enough to speak. “Well, regardless. Thank you for this. It - means so...much,” he is speaking lowly and thickly. He’s trying not to shed any tears. With joy he cannot speak, Sylvain thinks that perhaps their cry baby prince has not completely left them. But he has to contain himself, or he’ll scare away the vulnerable pieces he’s been given tonight. Dimitri has been so far away for so long.

So he smiles warmly and holds him tightly. “Hey, Dimitri, won’t you look up at me for a second? Please?” 

Dimitri does. Gazing upward, straight into Sylvain’s eyes. 

“You’re welcome. You don’t have to worry so much with me, Dimitri. It’s like I said. You shouldn’t be so alone. Whenever you need, you can have me. We’ll work on it together. Us people...aren’t meant to be solitary.”

Dimitri stares into Sylvain’s eyes for quite some time, intently watching him, his gratitude tangible in his eyes. Soft, so soft, the way he watches him. He says, “Kiss me.”

Eyes widening slightly, briefly, Sylvain obeys. He shifts his neck so he can crane downward, meets Dimitri halfway. Presses his mouth lightly, with a bit of wonder at the mood of this room, this bed built for one, to Dimitri’s. Dimitri nips at his lips with no intent, and then he slides his tongue across Sylvain’s mouth. Sylvain likes this. Dimitri being confident, and taking what he wants. What he has been given. There’s an ache in his chest right now, that neither Marlena from yesterday nor Pietyr from the day before, or anyone before, has pricked him with. So he opens his mouth, heart full of cotton, and lets Dimitri lick all through him. He sighs and savors it, all that he can have, from the warmth of Dimitri’s tongue to the texture of his palate to his goddamn teeth. After a few moments, Dimitri pulls away.

He gives Sylvain a tiny, beatific smile. “Goodnight, Sylvain. My friend.”

Sylvain, feeling breathless, embraces him with his entire body, face pressed into Dimitri’s hair, breathing through his mouth with effort born from emotion. He smiles as best he can. Kisses the side of Dimitri’s temple. 

“Goodnight.”

* * *

Hours later, Dimitri wakes him up for training by kissing his balls and declaring he wants to know how to deepthroat him as a thanks. It’s a heavenly thing. Dimitri even swallows his spend in one gulp, and doesn’t complain of the flavor.

He’s a quick learner, as it happens.

Later that month, the Flame Emperor is unmasked, and Dimitri is lost to the Lions.

**Author's Note:**

> just. for the record. sylvain deserves a good dicking from the king and he WILL get it in my writing, someday. i have a couple WIPs where this happens but I needed a break from them with something...simpler so. here is dimitri crying and getting a blowjob. they love each other.
> 
> also thank u for reading!!! feedback is appreciated if u want :-)


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